


love is more thicker than forget

by eyesonly



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Aidan is almost 18, Call Me By Your Name AU, Dean is 24, Ends in 2018, M/M, May/December Relationship, Starts in 2001
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonly/pseuds/eyesonly
Summary: Loosely based off "Call Me By Your Name" AU / Real world timeline (but of course AU)Dean is running away from everything he knows, Aidan is desperately trying to find himself. Both try to find something to hold onto in each other.





	1. more thinner than recall

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Frankenstein, attempting to resurrect this deadass fandom. Y'all, I'm really going to try though. Basically, I watched Call Me By Your Name and was hit with all of the Aidean vibes. This is very loosely based on the film/novel, more just in the idea of a young queer couple (with a seven year age difference) and their relationship over the years.
> 
> So Aidan is 17. In the Republic of Ireland, the age of consent is 17. I'm not marking it as underage for that reason. Aidan is almost 18 as the fic goes on, and I am by no means advocating or suggesting that people in their 20's should be dating teenagers.

_March 2001_

Dean isn’t sure why he picked Ireland. Maybe it was a subliminal suggestion from a movie or commercial. Maybe it was some deep ancestral calling. Maybe it was just the furthest place he could think of from New Zealand.

Regardless, there he was in Dublin with a shitty studio flat. Trying to escape everything he left in Auckland. His family. His girlfriend. His career.

No, he was pretty sure his career was dead. His agent had told him in not-so-simple words.

_“Casting directors are just looking for someone a little more...manly? Masculine? I told you that puff movie was a dense idea. You now have the ‘I’m a queer’ label on your forehead. You know I don’t care, mate, but you just aren’t marketable. You aren’t the cute little dimpled kid you once were. You have to work on your look and your skill too.”_

He hadn’t gotten an acting gig in months. He hardly had any money and he wasn’t going to mortify himself further by moving back in with his parents. With the last bit of cash he had, he booked a flight to Dublin. He found a shitty studio flat and moved in with his few bags within the day.

Work came not long after, having been an amateur photographer lend him with enough knowledge to work at an old school photography shop. Many people were moving to digital, but film was his first love. It wasn’t hard to get lost into a routine of waking up, eating, working, eating, sleeping, then repeat.

—-

“Aidan! You have five minutes before I leave this house without you! I have to get to work!”

He knew he had overslept, but he hadn’t thought it was that long. The young dark haired man rushes into questionably clean clothes, brushing his teeth, and staring at his wild messy curls with dismay before gathering his things in his bedroom. 

Book bag and dance bag. He grabs a pair of scuffed dance shoes, a clean shirt, and stuffs them into the bag. Slinging both on his shoulders, he rushes down the stairs, moving to slip on the worn Vans trainers as he hops to the door.

He’s met with his mother’s disgruntled stare in the front doorway.

“I’m here, I’m here. Sorry,” he mumbles out breathlessly.

“Car. Now, let’s go.” 

His mother was always a domineering woman. She didn’t have the kind softness of other mums he saw on the telly or movies. She wasn’t mean or ever cruel. Determined was the word he liked to think. She was essentially a single mum. His parents having divorced in a time before he could remember them together.

Aidan gets into the car and relaxes for only a brief moment before his mother lets out a sigh as she starts the car and starts driving.

“You’re graduating this year, Aidan. You have to be more responsible. I know school isn’t ‘your thing’ as you’ve so articulately put it, but I would like to just see some effort. I feel like that isn’t too hard to ask, your brother-“

“Your brother wasn’t a good student either, but look at him now, he’s going to be a stuffy and amazing taxman,” he mimics his mother’s voice looking at her. “I don’t want to be a tax man or an accountant. I’m not you two.”

“So you would rather be an electrician like Pat?” She raises her brow.

“No, I mean I don’t know. I just know I can’t be in a stuffy room all day,” He sighs nervously twisting a curl.

“I wish you would consider dancing more competitively. Are you sure you want to quit after this season?” Her voice softens looking at him for a moment before looking back at the road.

“Yeah, mum. It’s too expensive. You need to save all that money for when I inevitably decide to become an accountant and follow in the family legacy,” He teases as she slows down at the front of his school. 

His mother chuckles softly before leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You need me to pick you up from the dance studio after I get off work?”

“No, I can walk. Ta.” He grabs his bags and gets out. 

“I love you, Aid. You know that, right?” She smiles warmly at him.

“I know. Love you too, mum. Bye.” He smiles back before shutting the car door and heading into the building.

—-

With working the job at the photography shop gives Dean new opportunity to pursue that passion that was once just merely a hobby he used to connect with his father. He advertises some as a photographer and gets lucky with a few gigs.

He photographs engagements, birthdays, advertisements, and even art which is more pro bono than anything. 

He is reading in his flat when he gets the phone call.

“Hi, is this Mr. O’Gorman? The photographer?” It’s a woman’s voice and he’s instantly filled with a giddy excitement.

“Yes, hi, this is he, Dean. I am Dean, I mean. Sorry. How can I help you?” He grins babbling while trying to sound professional.

“My name is Mairead Dunne, I own a small dance studio right outside Dublin. I’m really wanting to get some promotional material out for the studio and build some of my dancers’ portfolios. I saw your ad while I was out and about, I don’t know what your rate is but I was hoping we could work something out?”

At this point, Dean was sure he would agree to just a warm non-frozen microwaved meal and a tank of gas. They discuss a price that Dean is more than appreciative of and they schedule a shoot later that week. He’s told to not just focus on the studio itself, but to highlight the talents and skills of the dancers there.

The next week he feels the best since he’s left Auckland. He feels like for once that maybe things are turning around and going his way.

—-

Aidan arrives at his dance practice. Naturally about ten minutes late. He rushes in and pulls the headphones attached to a CD player off his head as he tries to sneak in and into the dressing area unnoticed. 

“Aidan, so lovely for you to grace us with your presence.”

He winces slightly at the voice and shyly turns not looking up from the floor.

“Sorry, Miss Dunne. I was running late after-”

“Ah, ah! Go get changed, we have a guest today!”

He chooses that moment to look up and standing past her is a younger blond man talking to some of the dancers a camera in his hand. 

For the briefest of moments their eyes make contact, Aidan pulling away first and heading to the dressing room. He changes into his practice clothes and his scuffed practice shoes. 

He comes out and Mairead lets them know that this photographer, “Dean,” he insists, will be taking promotional photos for the studio. Aidan feels suddenly underdressed and a bit self-conscious with a stranger in what he mentally considers a sacred private place. 

He’s paired up with his partner Catrin, a small blonde woman who is a year or so older than himself. Their next competition was to be in a week, the two finalizing their three competition pieces. A tango, a foxtrot, and an open Latin. 

Aidan stretches and warms up as others practices. The photographer deftly moving around the room and taking photos. He gets in the way a few times of the dancers warming up, several bumping him out of the way as a silent warning. 

When it is Aidan and his partner are ready to practice performing, he tries to tell himself to ignore the soft shutters of the camera and the person behind the lens. They settle on practicing the tango first. 

The music is slower and their moves are less quick and more deliberate, Aidan knowing these must be some decent photos in comparison to the previously quicker dances of some of the others.

He turns and moves Catrin in a slow and sensual manner. The dance having been embarrassing when he first learned it, but Mairead would remind him that dancing was 30% skill and 70% acting. He could act, he knew that. 

He told himself in his head that Catrin was his unrequited lover and he was always trying to win her back. He moves his hand over her slender hip and look up over his dark brows, making accidental eye contact with the photographer again.

The photographer that is standing agape, his camera in his hand and not at his face. Aidan freezes for a moment, nearly missing his next cue before Catrin pulls him back in and the dance is soon finished. 

Aidan breathes a little heavy as the rest of the dancers cheer politely, the photographer letting his camera hang from his neck as he also claps smiling in Aidan’s direction. He flushes a little and bows his head humbly moving off the main floor with Catrin who pats his arm.

“You better not get that stage shocked next week or I’ll personally neuter you,” Catrin whispers in jest, though he knows it’s a real warning.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he mumbles under his breath as they go back to practicing on the side floors.

When their practice winds down later that night, he changes in the dressing room and gets back into his normal street clothes. He puts his headphones over his neck and grabs his duffel bag, heading out of the room. 

He tries to slip out unnoticed, a lot of the girls swarming around the photographer and he thinks he’s made a clean escape until he walks out of the studio and voice calls from behind him.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Aidan turns to see the smiling photographer breathlessly following after him out the door. 

“Aidan, right?” 

The younger wordlessly nods and slides down his headphones. 

“Um, I’m Dean. I just had to let you know how incredible of a dancer you are. I got some really nice pictures, I was wondering if you would want copies? I know your instructor would be getting them, but I just wanted to make sure you could get them too if you wanted them,” He nervously babbles a bit, with a dimpled smile still on his face.

Aidan politely smiles back with a nod, “Yeah, I would like that. Thanks.”

Dean grins and rifles through his pocket and hands him a business card for a photography shop.

“I work here and if you’re free, maybe sometime tomorrow afternoon or anytime this week really, I’ll be there and I can give them to you,” he smiles as Aidan looks over the card before pocketing it himself.

“Yeah, sure. Ta,” he nods in his directions with a nervous little smile. 

“Yeah, no, of course. Um, I’ll see you around?” Dean says walking backwards toward the studio.

Aidan nods, flashing a small smile. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around. Bye,” he awkwardly waves and flips his headphones on turns back to his path back to his home.

Dean stands at the door, watching him as he walks away, his stomach flitting in a giddy nervousness. Once he’s out of sight, he heads back into the studio.


	2. more seldom than a wave is wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan's point of view between a decade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive responses, public and private. Your comments and kudos mean the world to me! I'm happy to try and help bring back some Aidean!

_April 2011_

He’s sat in on what seems like a million auditions by now. He’s repeated the same lines over and over again. He wants to be mad at Rob for leaving the cast, but he knows it’s what he needed.

He knows what it’s like to not be happy and want to escape from everything, so for that he doesn’t fault him. However, it doesn’t make this process any easier. He and Rob were just starting to connect and now he has to start all over again and they’re in the middle of filming.

There are even rumors starting that this the series is going to be three movies instead of two. He knows whoever they pick, he’s going to have to like them and like them fast. 

So far, he’s been disappointed. Sure, there have been some great actors that have read. None of them feel right though. None of them feel like a friend or a brother. He doesn’t want just a costar, he wants something meaningful. The rest of the dwarves have bonded so well, he doesn’t want to ruin that dynamic.

“Aidan, you good for one more?”

He looks up from the script and nods as he rubs a hand over his shorn dark fuzz.

“Yeah, definitely,” he flashes a grin, mindlessly rolling the script up in his hand as he waits.

“Well, this bloke was honestly PJ’s first pick. His schedule worked out last, but I think you’re going to like him a lot,” the casting director smiles in his direction as the door opens and an assistant leads the next actor in.

Aidan stands politely with a smile as the assistant moves out of the way. 

He feels his blood run cold, his heart drops into his chest. 

“Aidan, this is Dean O’Gorman. Dean, this is our Kili, Aidan Turner.”

Dean doesn’t miss a beat and holds out his hand.

“Hey, nice to meet you mate.”  


Aidan takes his hand, feeling almost faint. He knows his hand has to be clammy and shaking.

He doesn’t trust himself enough to say anything but, “Yeah, nice to meet you too,” and he forces a smile, trying to push back the sudden decade old feelings that bubble up in his throat.

\---

_March 2001_

Aidan forgets about the business card in his pocket as soon as he arrives home. He showers, wiping away the general grime of the day before starting his homework. 

_Two and half more months._

He was excited about being done with school, he was never particularly great at it. On the same hand, he was nervous about the future in general. He didn’t know what he wanted to do as a career.

He liked dancing. He liked movies. He liked being busy and doing things. But he just didn’t exactly know _what_ to do.

The next few days weren’t much different than the day before. School, dance rehearsal, then home.

It wasn’t until the day before his competition did he remember the photographer Dean and his offer to give him pictures. He knew his mum could never afford professional pictures of him, he figured taking the-

_Was he Australian?_

The maybe-Australian man up on his offer of pictures. It would be a nice gesture for his mum. Maybe he could even get them framed? That just seemed egotistical, but he knew her and he wasn’t the most willing in pictures. 

He arrived at the shop just minutes before closing, feeling a little guilty about that, but knowing this was one of the only free times he had to stop by. 

The blond foreigner was behind the counter, his golden shag hanging down as he read a book. Aidan politely cleared his throat as the man’s head popped up, a grin growing on his face as soon as he saw him.

“Aidan! You made it! I didn’t think you were going to ever come. Busy week?”

Aidan nods softly, a blush running over his face as he moves closer to the counter.

“I was just wondering if you still had those pictures, sorry it’s so late. I just got out of practice.”

Dean nods brightly and waves him off.

“No worries, mate! I have them riiiight,” he ducks under the counter before standing back up with a manila envelope, “Here! They turned out brilliant by the way. You have such a presence when dancing. Not that I know a lot about dancing, or anything really, but you and your partner are just a force.”

Aidan politely smiles and nods, gently taking the extended envelope.

“Catlin is a great dancer. I’ve only been dancing for a few years, she’s been doing it her whole life,” he admits, gently worrying his lip.

“I don’t know, I thought you were really impressive. It didn’t look forced I guess. You dance like you like it, not like it’s a chore,” Dean tells him leaning against the counter.

Aidan flushes softly and smiles at him.

“Ah, thanks. Really. I do like dancing. There is a competition this weekend...if you wanted to come and take more pictures...I can’t offer you much, but I’d pay you? I’m wanting some nice pictures for my mum before I quit competing,” Aidan says a bit more confidently than he feels.

Dean grins then frowns a little.

“I would love to, yeah. But you aren’t going to compete anymore? You’re such a good dancer.”

Aidan shrugs, shifting his feet a little.

“It’s expensive. I only make money if I win and honestly the money usually goes back into dance. I’m going to have to find a real job soon,” he chuckles self-deprecatingly.

Dean nods softly. “I can understand that. I guess that’s what I kind of why I left New Zealand, I guess.”

Aidan smiles and makes a little huffing laugh.

“New Zealand? I was guessing Australian, but I guess I’m not too far off. What did you do there?” He asks leaning on the other side of the counter feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence in the empty store.

Dean scratches his unkempt golden curls and winces a little. 

“Ah, I was an actor? I mean, I’m still an actor, but I’m just not a working actor,” he answers a little embarrassed to admit.

Aidan grins a little, eagerly leaning in a little.

“Really? I kind of thought about acting. My nan was an actress, in plays and stuff, I mean. Do you do plays or were you in real movies,” his excitement is evident, a starstruck look on his face.

Dean chuckles a little and nods humbly.

“Uh yeah, I’ve done some movies and telly. Have you ever heard of Xena?”

“You were on Xena?! No way! I mean, I haven’t really watched but some of my friends do. That’s a really popular show too,” Aidan practically gushes, his shyness disappearing in an instant.

“I guest starred a couple times. But I was, ah, I was one of the main stars in a spinoff? It didn’t do as well, but it was a ton of fun. Young Hercules, is what it’s called,” Dean admits, wanting to impress the younger man.

Aidan blinks incredulously then breaks out in a genuine grin.

“I’ve heard of that! Oh wow, you’re famous. Like real life famous.”

“I’d hardly say famous, it was cancelled after one season.”

“Still, dude. That’s incredible! What in the hell are you doing here in Ireland?” Aidan scrunches his nose at him.

Dean’s face falls a little but he shakes his head.

“Sabbatical. I just needed a change of scenery. Expand my horizons. My last name is O’Gorman so I wanted to explore the homeland, you know?” It seems like a decent enough excuse and Aidan seems to accept it easily with a nod.

“This is so wild and so cool! A real actor. You’re going to have to give me tips and pointers, I haven’t really told anyone but I think acting is something I’d really like to do,” He says softly in Dean’s direction. 

Dean smiles and takes another business card out and writes down a number.

“This is my home number. If I don’t answer, I have a machine. You can call anytime, I’d be happy to help anyway I can. Not that I can promise it will be any cheaper than dancing. Acting lessons and classes are so important. But you should focus on your competition for now, I think that is the most important,” Dean offers warmly. 

Aidan nods with a soft smile and plucks one of the business cards scribbling his own number and a location on the back of it. 

“That’s where the competition is going to be held. It’s a couple pounds to get in, and it’s most of the day. I can pay your entrance fee if it’s a problem,” Aidan says with a nervous smile.

Dean shakes his head quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I can pay, you’re honestly helping out my photography portfolio, really. I’ve taken so many scenery pictures, it’s nice to have some real subjects in my photos now.”

Aidan smiles and nods, before holding the envelope up. “Thanks again for the photos, I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“You got it, mate. Later,” Dean waves fondly.

Aidan waves back with a shy smile, “Yeah, later,” he repeats back before heading out of the shop and back home, thinking about Dean and his handsome smile the whole way back.


	3. more frequent than to fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2001 Aidan is having the time of his life. 2011 Aidan really wants to punch something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was supposed to be a slow burn...I'm impatient. So are the boys. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also I feel like saying, it's 1AM, I'm watching a cable TV Xena marathon, and I'm sure there are a litany of mistakes. Just ignore them. You know what I'm trying to say, right?

_May 2011_

He was frustrated. Dean and him clicked immediately in their audition. Of course they did. If only everyone in the room knew what they did. Their chemistry was undeniable. I’m sure casting thought they had hit the ultimate jackpot.

Still he was frustrated.

They had been filming for nearly a week and Dean was still acting like he had no idea who he was. He had hope after one of their first shots together when Dean pulled him aside and grinned at him.

“You did great, brother,” is all he said before heading back to his own trailer.

He was practically seething. He wanted to punch him. Or kiss him. Or just fucking cry. 

A castmate, another Northern Irish man named Jimmy put his hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze.

“You and O’Gorman, not connecting? You look like you wanted to sucker punch him.”

He shakes his head quickly, “Nah, just my face. Tiring day. Reshooting everything is just exhausting,” He offers with a smile.

“Well let’s get this shite off our faces and then we can go to the pub. Drinks on me, lad,” he jovially offers clapping his back again as he pushes him in the direction of his own trailer.

He forces a smiles and heads back to his trailer, getting ready for the night ahead of him.

He isn’t too surprised when he arrives at the pub that the entire cast of dwarves and some of the crew are there as well, not just him and James like he was hoping. Dean is there happily in the throes of a story with some of the other Kiwi actors who he seemingly remembers so well despite not having worked with some in nearly twenty years. 

He sits at the end of the bar, sipping on a local beer as he listens passively to all of the conversations around him. He offers perfectly timed and polite smiles and clinks glasses with everyone who gestures in his direction. 

Dean soon comes beside him and motions to the bartender for another beer before he looks over at him.

“You know there is room over by us. You don’t have to grumpily lurk on the end of the bar,” Dean offers with a playful smile.

“I’m good. Right here,” He doesn’t look at him, taking a sip of his beer.

He doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Dean makes a soft hum before picking up his new beer.

“Well then, later.”

It takes every fiber of his being to not deck him right there in the bar.

\---  
 _March 2001_

The day of the competition came quicker than Aidan was ready for. They always did. The morning was filled with last minute fittings and sitting for an uncomfortable amount of time getting his hair done.

He didn’t know why the acknowledgement of curly hair was seen as a fault, but his hair was always forcibly straightened and slicked back. It made him feel exposed and made him realize how much he relied on the dark curls to hide behind.

It was about a half hour before his first dance and he had to get out of the busy convention center. Slipping out a back door, he was met with other dancers nervously smoking and shaking out the last minute jitters.

He pulled out his own cheap pack and was able to bum a light. The first drag seemed to release some of the tension in his body, he rested his back and head against the wall, closing his eyes for just a moment.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

He lifts his head up to see Dean casually leaning on the wall next to him, with playful smirk on his face. His hair was loosely tied back, and his camera resting on his chest.

Aidan can’t help but breathily laugh a little, as an exhale of smoke escapes his lips. He takes another drag and shrugs.

“At least we aren’t part of the crew that are busy getting so pissed they can’t dance straight.”

“Don’t they know you get pissed after you win?”

Aidan laughs taking another drag, noticing Dean’s curious and watchful stare.

“You have to promise me you won’t make fun of me no matter how ridiculous I look tonight,” Aidan breathes out in mock seriousness.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Dean laughs putting his hands up in a placating manner. 

Aidan smiles at his laugh, having a innate urge to impress the older man. They stand in silence for a few moments before Dean pulls up his camera. Aidan stops and looks at him.

“Don’t look at me, you egg. Just keep doing you, I need to get some test shots,” Dean instructs before his shutter goes off a few times. 

Aidan rolls his eyes and takes another drag, relaxing back on the wall. He mentally goes over his first dance in his head, forgetting Dean’s presence for a few moments until he clasps his shoulder.

“Good luck, Aidan. I’m sure you’ll do amazing, yeah?” Dean says as Aidan looks over at him.

Aidan smiles and nods finishing his cigarette and stuffing out the light with the bottom of his shoe. He’s a little surprised when Dean leans in and kisses his cheek.

“For luck, mate!” He calls out before heading back inside.   
Aidan touches his cheek, frozen in place. He tries to shake it off before rushing back inside, having stayed out far too long and fearing Catlin murdering him. 

\---

Dean finds a seat in the small arena, trying to get as close as he can with his camera. There are several dances before Aidan’s. He focuses his camera on the dancers, just testing on the focus with the different lighting and movement.

Aidan and his partner are soon announced. He looks focused and serious as they take their position on the floor. When the music starts he recognizes it as the tango he watched just days before.

It takes him a few seconds to realize how enraptured with the dancing he was and that he wasn’t taking photos.

Dean fumbles with his camera and quickly gets some photos. Aidan and his partner both move with quick feet and an almost slow seduction. 

He stops to imagine Aidan looking at him with the same hungry gaze.

Through the dance he takes pictures, once it finishes he lets his camera hang around his neck so he can eagerly clap, beyond impressed with the other man.

The competition winds up being ungodly long, having to wait nearly an hour for Aidan’s next dance the foxtrot. He can’t help but grinning at the second dance. It’s much more innocent and a bit quicker. The song itself is a jazzy piece from the 50’s and Dean feels like he’s been transported into a Gene Kelly movie. 

Aidan and his partner glide over the floor and he’s genuinely smiling now as he twirls her and moves her gracefully. Dean snaps a few pictures, hoping he is able to encapture his smile and the genuine feeling of fun from the dance.

His last dance isn’t too long after the first. It is a group competition, five couples on the floor dancing to the same song at the same time. It’s a fast paced song in Spanish and they all are a flurry of movement and sequins.

Dean isn’t too sure how good his shutter speed is to get any decent pictures with the dance. He tries a couple shots, but resigns and just enjoys the Latin dancing. After that dance there is a twenty minute break before the results are read. 

He navigates the now open floor and tries to find Aidan. When he finds him, he’s still in his Latin outfit that is a suit made with too much spandex and an even more absurd amount of red sequins. Aidan’s face is understandably mortified when Dean approaches him.

“Oh God, you’re still here?” Aidan moans, crossing his arms over himself trying to cover his body.

Dean gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I can go if you want me to?” He offers over the loud roar of the crowd.

Aidan shakes his head, his curls still plastered into a cemented coiffure. Dean hates it. He’s known him for less than a week and he misses the damned curls.

“No, sorry no, please stay, if you want I mean? How did the pictures go? Did you get some good shots?” Aidan babbles a little, his hand going up to run through his hair but stopping short in their awkward absence.

“Great! Really great. You were...you were incredible out there! I really liked the foxtrot. I love all the old 40’s and 50’s American musical films. I got major Gene Kelly vibes, bro,” He grins reassuringly, clasping his shoulder with a squeeze.

Aidan blushes a little but modestly brushes it off.

“I’m not nearly that good, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

The results are given and Aidan and his partner, Catrin, come in third. It’s not exactly what they want but it’s not anything to be upset about. Aidan invites him out to drinks at a local pub.

“I’ll be there in twenty or so, I just have to shower and get this shite out of my hair.”

Dean takes his time getting to the pub. Dancers litter the bar, not all from Aidan’s studio but with the competition over, all rivalies are off and they seem to mingle peacefully. Aidan arrives a half hour later, in worn jeans and a band tee that engulfs his lithe frame. His curls are still damp, but the most important thing is that they’re freed.

Aidan sees him and goes over with a bright grin, Dean handing him a mug of beer as he walks up. 

“Cheers, mate. To third place!” Dean and him clink their mugs both happily taking a drink.

“Ta, to third place. Sorry it took so long, I couldn’t wash the fucking gel out,” Aidan grumbles taking another long drink.

Dean laughs softly behind his mug.

“It did kind of look like a helmet, bro,” he teases playfully.

Aidan punches his arm with a mock glare.

“You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me!”

“I’m not! You insulted it first. I was just merely agreeing. I don’t know why they would try to ruin something as perfect as those curls,” Dean admits with the help of some liquid courage.

Aidan stares at him for a moment before focusing back on his beer. He tries to ignore the comment. He signals the barkeep for another beer before looking back at Dean.

“So when will the pictures be ready and developed?” Aidan muses, changing the subject.

Dean finishes his beer and signals as well as he looks at Aidan.

“Can you stop by Monday sometime? I should have them done then,” Dean smiles warmly.

Aidan nods, thanking the barkeep as they both receive new beers. He doesn’t know what to say at first so he asks Dean about his time as an actor, what kind of movies and projects he’s done, how he got into acting, what was his favorite job, who is the coolest celebrity he’s ever met.

Dean is happy to answer his questions and as the beers keep flowing, the more loud and exaggerated the stories get. Aidan doesn’t mind in the slightest. Dean is one of, no he is, the most interesting people he’s ever met. He tells him about his dad being an artist, his grandfather a World War II hero, and just how different things are on his home island.

Aidan is completely taken, hanging onto every one of Dean’s words. Dean tells him about Australia and the United States. He suddenly feels embarrassed that he’s only ever holidayed in Ireland. He’s never even been to the North or the Isles. Hell, he’s hardly left Dublin and its suburbs. 

He silently prays that Dean doesn’t ask him about himself.

Dean is an _actor_. He’s been all over the world. He’s into art and history. He has an exciting family and a bloody exciting life. 

_Well, I spend six hours a day in school. I spend an extra three hours at dance practice. My mum works all the time to support my brother and I. My brother is living his best life in university. My dad is a deadbeat electrician who forgets he has kids. I have no real talents outside of growing a wicked beard._

“I’m sorry, I’m talking so much about myself. I must be boring you to death or you think I’m an utter narcissist,” Dean hiccups into his hand with an apologetic look.

“No! You’re good. You’re great, actually. I really like listening. I’m a listener, a good listener,” He tries to drunkenly explain his cheeks flushing. “I need a smoke, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Dean slides off his stool, steading Aidan as he gets off his. Aidan snorts looking at him for a moment.

“You’re so short,” he realizes as if it’s the funniest thing in the world at that moment.

Dean rolls his eyes and pushes him to the door.

“Fuck off. You’re not exactly a behemoth yourself,” there is no heat in the words which makes Aidan giggle more as he heads outside.

He beats his pocket finding his cigarettes and lighter. He offers one to Dean who just shakes his head and leans against the wall watching Aidan.

Aidan looks back at him and raises his brow questioningly.

“Something on my face?”

Dean just shakes his head. 

“Then what is it?”

Dean makes a soft hum before his shoulder inches closer on the wall.

“I’m just thinking, that’s all,” Dean answers, almost sounding sober.

“If you’re going to give me a smoking lecture, I’ve already heard them all.”

Dean lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head.

“Just thinking about how ridiculous I am. How fucking attractive you are.”

Aidan nearly drops his cigarette, not looking at Dean. He shakily puts the cigarette to his lips and takes another inhale.

Dean takes the silence as rejection and immediately backtracks.

“Whoa, I’m sorry...alcohol makes me flirty and I shouldn’t have assumed-”

Aidan leans over at that moment and steals his lips letting out an exhale of smoke in the process. 

Dean freezes for a moment before his body catches up to his mind. He pulls Aidan closer, his hands on his hips. Aidan’s arms rest on his shoulder, his cigarette still delicately held in his slender fingers. 

When they both slowly pull away, a small smile tugs on Dean’s face.

“Damn.”

Aidan breathes out staring at him a bit incredulously.

“Yeah. Damn.”


	4. it is most mad and moonly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan of the past feels like his life is blossoming. Aidan of the present is finally tired of the bullshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooow. Sorry this took forever. I wrote most of this weeks ago but FiKi week stole me away and then I needed some time off from writing every single day. I'm hoping to get back to a better schedule now! Thank you to all who have commented and kudo'd! Y'all keep me motivated!

_March 2001_

“So you just...kissed him?”

“Uh huh.”

“What happened after?”

“We kissed more, I guess. I was pretty pissed, okay?”

“You are a lightweight.”

“I’m freaking out here and you’re making fun of me?”

“I’m not making fun of you! You didn’t go home with him did you?”

“No! I don’t know him that well and I wasn’t _that_ drunk.”

“How old is he even?”

“I dunno. Twenty, twenty-one maybe? He doesn’t look that old.”

“You’re seventeen, Aidan! You can’t just be making out with random guys in the back of seedy bars. There are creeps out there!”

“He’s not some random guy and I’m not a kid.”

“You barely know him and you’re barely not a kid.”

“Well, I know him well enough to know he’s not a creep and I’m smart and have a good head on my shoulders, you said that yourself.”

“Just be careful. Mum would kill me if you got hurt and then she’d resurrect me for not telling her beforehand that you’re hanging around some older bloke, and then she’d kill me again.”

“And that’s why you’re such an amazing older brother and you’re _not_ going to tell mum.”

Aidan hears a resigned sigh on the other side of the phone. His brother and him had always been circumstantially close. They never particularly hung out or had the same interests, but Colin was protective and the first person he knew he could go to for good, genuine advice. 

“I won’t tell mum. But keep me in the loop, okay? Don’t be stupid and just be safe. If he gets pushy and mean and tries to force you into doing st-”

“Thank you, mum!” He cuts him off playfully. “I know how to take care of myself and I really like him...I just wanted to let someone know, because I am smart and responsible.”

Colin laughs softly before sighing again.

“I’ll talk to you later, Aid. Call me when you get your pictures, okay?”

“Will do. Talk to you later.”

“Love you, kid.”

Aidan softly chuckles. “Love you too, Colin.”

He spends all of Sunday thinking about Dean. After their sudden kiss the night before, they quietly returned to the bar and awkwardly said good night not long after. It was awkward, but not uncomfortable. Dean was a complete gentleman, not pushy or even overly flirty. He drove him back to his house and kissed him on the cheek when he left. 

When he gets off from school that Monday he practically rushes to the photography shop. He walks in to see Dean helping a customer. Standing back he patiently waits, Dean excitedly giving him a wave of acknowledgement. He finishes ringing up the customer before turning to Aidan.

“Hey! How are you doing?” Dean greets warmly.

Aidan grins back, “Good, great! You doing well?”

Dean nods in response and quickly ducks under the counter. He comes up with an envelope. 

“Here are the pictures! They came out brilliantly. The camera loves you,” Dean hands the pictures over to them, Aidan feeling his ears burn a little at the compliment.

Aidan takes them out of the envelope and looks over the picture. He never realized how intense his face actually looked. His dark brows were low and focused, Dean having caught the passion and feel of the dances he performed.

“My mum is going love these. Thank you so much, Dean,” Aidan says softly, looking up at him with a shy smile.

Dean grins in response. “It’s no problem, really. But we do have to talk about payment.”

Aidan blushes and nods softly, “Of course, I have about twenty pounds on me if that’s enough-”

“Or you could just, allow me to take you out for dinner,” Dean smirks softly, cutting him off. 

Aidan feels his face flush and his eyes widen.

“Like a date?”

“If that’s what you want it to be. It can just be dinner between friends getting to know each other. But I’d like if it were a date.”

Aidan nearly melts at Dean’s smile, he’s sure his own face has to be bright red at this point. 

“I-It’s a date then,” Aidan says in a voice more confident that he feels.

Dean beams and nods excitedly, “How about Murphy’s downtown? It looks really good. Are you free Friday night?”

Aidan nods quickly, “Yeah! I mean, yeah I can be there. What time?”

“How about six?”

“Six is perfect.”

Dean excitedly claps his hands together, “It’s a date! Just give me a call if anything changes.”

Aidan nods smiling excitedly, clutching the envelope to his chest. He awkwardly stands for a moment before waving and turning to leave, feeling like a complete knob. Dean however can’t stop thinking about how genuinely lovely he finds the younger man.

\---  
 _May 2011_

Aidan feels half asleep in the makeup chair. Days where they worked into the double digits were always the hardest. He comes in last of the dwarves, his removal one of the easiest so he always waits until everyone has mostly left and have their own faces returned. 

Adam and Dean are the only two left when he gets in, and he finds himself dozing when he hears Adam call out a good night. He drifts off by the time that they start working to remove his wig and headpiece. 

He’s startled awake by a hand on his arm, gently waking him.

“Hey, you might not want to fall asleep here,” a voice offers softly.

Aidan breathes in and rubs his face before looking up and finding a concerned Dean. He furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“I’m not going to, thanks,” he grumbles out. 

He pushes himself up and past Dean, hastily grabbing his pile of things. In the rush a pack of cigarettes fall to the floor. Dean leans over, picking them up, and handing them to Aidan.

“You know these things will kill you,” Dean says looking Aidan in the eye.

Aidan takes the cigarettes and glares. He opens his mouth, wanting nothing more than to scream and yell in Dean’s face. He feels his hands shaking and he shakes his head.

“I don’t have fucking time for this,” he growls out before storming out of the trailer.

He’s surprised when Dean grabs his arm stopping and pulling him back.

“Aidan, wait. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Yeah, you’re right you fucking shouldn’t have! Let go of me.”

“Can we talk, please?” Dean’s voice is calm and begging.

“You want to fucking talk? Now? Did your piss poor memory finally remind you who the fuck I am?” Aidan’s voice is low and his face dark, he realizes now how much he towers over Dean who practically cowers away.

“Please, I can expl-”

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word,” Aidan’s teeth are gritted, years of pain and hurt bubbling over.

“Aidan, please listen, you have to know I didn’t want to do this and I’m a fucking idiot. Aido, I love you, I always have…” Dean whispers out, looking up at Aidan.

Aidan can’t help but finally decking Dean in his beautifully perfect face.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @deanogarbage


End file.
